A Midnight Picnic
by Gimli's Pickaxe
Summary: Legolas, Eldarion, and a midnight picnic under the stars. Or : Legolas is a good Uncle and spoils the little prince sick. Fluffy oneshot.


**Midnight Picnic**

_Little Eldarion cannot sleep, so Legolas decides to have a little Adventure._

* * *

Rating : K+

Featuring : Legolas, Eldarion.

Genre : Pure fluff.

* * *

Legolas smoothed down the soft, thin silken covers draped over the small body. Some might say that it was right strange, to just stay beside the child, watching him slumber – creepy, even. But it was one of Legolas' favorite pastimes. There was just something incomprehensibly sweet about sleeping children, something so potently innocent, and Eldarion had always had a special place in Legolas' heart.

Sleeping child...

...or not, Legolas thought amusedly, sensing the forced calm breathing of one who was trying, hard, to feign sleep.

Light grey eyes blinked open, half–open so as to be shielded from the blinding moon.

"I can't sleep," complained Eldarion blearily. "It's to hot, and I wanted to play, but mother said that I had to go to bed."

"Then why did you not say so earlier, little one?" Legolas asked, a smile hinting at his stern mouth.

"I was embarassed," Eldarion admitted. "And you might tell mother, and she would be upset."

Legolas tutted.

"Now come on, Eldarion. When have I ever teamed up with your mother? Uncles are for pampering, young one, not discipline."

Eldarion perked up a bit at that. come to think of it, he couldn't remember a single occasion when Legolas had sided with his parents against him. He grinned, popping straight up in excitement.

"I don't want to sleep, Legolas! I want to go adventuring."

Legolas remembered then that today the Rangers had come visiting. Tall, dark strangers reeking of danger and adventure galore, swirling cloaks hanging about their proud sword-hilts... No wonder that Eldarion was nearly bursting out of his skin, eager for some adventure of his own.

Legolas tutted, again. Now what had led Arwen to think that little Eldarion would simply consent to sleeping on a night such as this?

The night was yet young, a woodland bird cooing somewhere off to the distance, and the whole city of Minas Tirith was bathed in a soothing silver glow. A sweet summer breeze blew in through the window, bathing Uncle and young child in a strange sense of peace an well-being. Legolas leaned down, whispering conspiratorily into Eldarion's small ear.

"I know what it is that we must do tonight," declared Legolas. "Tonight, we must go on an... adventure."

"Adventure?" Eldarion breathed, eyes growing wide. "What kind of Adventure will it be?"

"You will see, young one, you will see," said Leolas, enigmatically, as he made to stand beside the small bed. "Now hurry off, Eldrarion, and fetch a blanket!"

* * *

A scant few moments later, Legolas and Eldarion crept sneakily along the parapets of the great palace. Legolas was as soundless as ever, gliding with silent grace over the hard stone, dark hair blending seamlessly into the summer night. Eldarion stifled a giggle.

"Are we going out to the forest?"

"Nay, Eldarion, for that is an adventure fit for another day. Today, my darling child, we shall touch the sky!"

Legolas declared with a flourish, waving his arm about wildly. Eldarion let out a peal of childish laughter, only to stuff his hand over his mouth, eyes blinking rapidly in panic.

"Oh, no, uncle Legolas," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Are we going to get caught?"

"No, my child," replied Legolas, eyes glittering with amusement. "We are as stealthy as ever. Now, hurry, before we really do get caught! Your father shall throw us into the dungeons if we are found," he whispered, voice dropping to a threatening whisper. "For that is the fate that befalls all trespassers of the City."

Eldarion let out a small, panicked noise before hurrying on to the next patch of shadow. Legolas tracked the small figure with his eyes, making sure to tense himself, ready to jump at the slightest sign that the boy needed help. It would not do to have the future heir of Gondor tumbling off the walls of the famed palace, after all.

The night guard of the city widened his eyes at the sight of the Great Elven Lord of Ithilien, clad in his sleeping clothes, a small picnic basket over one arm. Legolas schooled his features best as he could, striving to imitate the regality he knew his King father could summon at will.

"You do your duty well, guard," he commended, with a Regal Nod.

The guard stuttered, not trusting his voice for a moment. After a long while, he managed, "Do have a good time, my lord."

Legolas saluted him, Elven-style, a hand sweeping from his heart towards the much befuddled guard. Then he scurried off, joining a giggling Eldarion in the shadows behind a small curve of the castle wall.

Legolas turned a stern eye on the young boy.

"Now, don't you laugh," he said, putting on his best imitation of his father. Eldarion snorted, then, unable to hold himself any longer, chortling under his breath.

"But you looked so funny, uncle," he cried. "You looked like someone had stuck a bad sardine up your nose."

At that, Legolas could not help himself either, and erupted in strangled mirth. The guard, hearing the muffled chortles and snorts emitting from beyond, only shook his head.

_Elves truly are strange folk_, he mused.

* * *

After scampering around some more dark corners, hiding behind a good number of them, and hitching a few piggyback rides upon Legolas' lithe, strong back, Eldarion had reached the top of one of the castle's famed parapets. Here, Legolas spread Eldarion's blanket, arranging the food he had brought upon it the best that he could.

There was chilled cheese, some assorted fruit, a jug of milk, and some of the head cook's honeyed cakes. Eldarion had no eyes for the feast before him, however, as he stared out across the moonlit expanse of the White City, and the sparkling blanket of stars overhead.

"It's beautiful, Uncle," Eldarion whispered, snuggling up against Legolas, who had come up beside him. Legolas snaked an arm around the boy's shoulders, squeezing lightly, before reaching up and ruffling his hair.

"That it is."

A time of peace, a beautiful city, a beautiful child beside him; Legolas could truly ask for no more. The world was at last freeing itself from the last, clinging remnants of darkness, and the results were truly beautiful.

"Can I sit on your shoulders? I want to see even higher."

Legolas was never one to deny Eldarion his wishes (in fact, to quote Arwen, he 'spoiled him rotten' - but that was what uncles were for, was it not?). Soon, Eldarion was mounted on Legolas's shoulders, one hand fisted in the fine dark locks, the other reaching out towards the endless expanse of silver and black.

"I feel like if I just reached up a little further, I could touch the stars. Like I could pick one right there and bring it to me."

"If you reached up a little further, young one, then we shall have a problem : you shall fall off, and we will have to pick up all the little bits and pieces of you from the ground far, far below."

Legolas stated in mock seriosity, and Eldarion pulled at Legolas' hair halfheartedly.

"Spoilsport."

Legolas laughed at that.

"I admit that I am impatient, child. For while we sit here, watching the stars, the picnic is going bad. What say you to feasting our bellies first, then feasting our eyes?"

Eldarion turned around at that, only now realizing what Legolas must have brought in that wicker basket of his. His eyes widened, mouth watering, at his favorite treat.

"Honey cakes! Oh, Legolas, I love you!"

"More than the cakes, I would hope," he said wryly, taking his place beside Eldarion on the sprawled blankets, and bringing one of the sweet, crumbly delicacies to his mouth. Valar, this child was ruining him. Just look, the proud warrior, reduced to jealousy... towards a honey cake, no less.

But the sparkle in Eldarion's eyes was genuine as he dug in, so Legolas allowed himself a lazy smile as he indulgently watched Eldarion stuff himself full of the cakes. Moments later, all that was left of the feast was a sweet, red apple, and the empty jar of milk, whick Legolas deftly stuffed back into the basket, where they belonged.

Eldarion rubbed his full belly contentedly, leaning against Legolas' warm shoulder.

"Mother is going to murder us," he murmured, eyes drooping slowly from the exertion, not to mention the resulting feast. The warm summer breeze played with his dark curls, smoothing Legolas' own hair into a sheet of dark brown silk behind him. Legolas' eyes glittered under the starlight as he looked down upon his favorite child.

Rosy, pink lips opened, and then closed, slowly lifting into a slow, sweet smile. Legolas' heart caught in his throat, and then he realized, yet again, that he would do absolutely anything for this child. Anything. He had him wrapped, utterly, absolutley, and blissfuly, around that chubby little finger of his.

"Uncle Legolas?"

"Hmm?"

Legolas answered absently, for apparently their small adventure had done its role, and Eldarion had begun to nod off. Amusedly, he noted the slight slur to the words, wrapping the blanket securely around the child's small shoulders – it would not do at all to have him fall asleep, only to catch a chill.

"It wasn't really an exciting adventure," he mumbled, and Legolas laughed, loud and clear, at that.

"No, it was not, little one," he said. "But you will have plenty of time to go on those later."

Eldarion shook his head, opening his bleary eyes stubbornly. Oh, he was certainly his father's son, this one. Legolas would know that stubborn gaze anywhere.

"But I didn't mean that."

"Then what did you mean, Little one?"

Asked Legolas, a tad curious now. Eldarion's soft, mumbled answer left Legolas speechless for a moment.

"It wasn't much exciting, uncle, but it was perfect... because you were in it."

With that, Eldarion was asleep, his breathing evening out into a soft, slow rhythm. Legolas looked down at him, dumbstruck, before hoisting him securely into the crook of his arm. Now if that wasn't the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life.

"You, Eldarion, are a one filled with surprises," murmured Legolas, pressing a soft kiss onto the sleeping child's forehead. With that, he stood, slowly, taking care not to jostle Eldarion, and slowly began to make his way back down.

Arwen was going to have both their heads tomorrow.

But he had no regrets whatsoever.

* * *

A/N : If you felt that this piece is familiar, you are probably right : I had uploaded this previously as a piece in a collection of oneshots (until I chickened out and deleted the whole thing.) But I liked this too much to let it rot in my computer, so here it is - an oneshot in its own right.

Hope you enjoyed it! Favorites are wonderful and Reviews are ultra-great. They make me dance! ;)

_p.s. : LTSWHL (Which is short for Let Them Say We Have Loved) : I am working on it! Laboring through a writer's block, in fact... but it is being done. Please be patient and if you really are waiting for it : thank you for liking my amateurish writing! You have my love._


End file.
